


42nd Floor

by Belle86



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Kaiju, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Lingerie, Prompt Fic, Roughness, Tumblr Prompt, Voyeurism, domestic cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4183557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle86/pseuds/Belle86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apartment across from Mako's has been vacant for months.</p><p>To say that the new occupant captures her attention would be an understatement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From the tumblr prompt: "Our apartments face each other and oh shit you're really hot and now I'm spying on you AU"

Mako listened to the the hum of the elevator as she rode it to her apartment floor, and sighed when it finally stopped. Being stuck at the office until ten o’clock wasn’t her ideal way of spending a Saturday night, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

But, she figured as she unlocked and opened the door, it did pay for this apartment; and that alone sometimes made it worth it. 

Open and spacious with high ceilings, gleaming white floors, and floor to ceiling windows, on the 42nd story of her high-rise apartment building. She’d filled the space with crisp, white furniture, which was all much more comfortable than it looked, and black accent pieces with touches of gold pulled it all together.

The two cream-colored cats, Raleigh and Yancy, who met her at the door, made it home.

Mako deposited her purse and work tote on the entryway table and hung her coat on the ornate hook installed by the door, then crouched down to give the two felines a good under-the-chin scritching. They followed her through the open-flow living room and dining area to her bedroom, darting in and out between her legs as she walked.

After changing out of her work slacks and blouse and into blissfully more comfortable yoga leggings and a soft, loose tee, Mako made herself some tea and settled down into the couch. Raleigh and Yancy followed, both cats hopping up next to her for pets and nuzzles. By the time she’d found something on her DVR to catch up on, Yancy had tucked himself back into his usual corner of the couch and was back off to sleep, leaving Raleigh to monopolize all of Mako’s attention, meowing out to her all the details of his and Yancy’s day.

Halfway through the latest installment of Soap Opera Bikers, which wasn’t actually the name, but she liked calling it that anyway, it certainly fit, Raleigh had calmed down to contentedly purring into her belly. A little after that, something in the building across the way lit up behind her TV.

It was the apartment directly across from hers. The one that had been empty for the past six months after the yuppie couple who lived there moved out - to the suburbs most likely, if the wife’s enormous pregnant belly was any indicator.

So the place across the way had been dark for a while, and Mako couldn’t help but be interested to see who had moved in. Maybe a darling of the art scene who would chain smoke and fling paint onto canvas and sheets and trash cans all through the night.

Maybe a financial up-and-comer who would wear nothing but obviously expensive suits and bring home a different model-type chick every night.

Or maybe a model chick who brought home a different up-and-coming financial type every night.

Leaning over the arm of the couch on her elbow for a better view, her eyes ran over the moving boxes piled up around the place, which had floor-to-ceiling windows and an open living space that ran the living room along the windows and the dining area and kitchen behind it, with only L-shaped kitchen counters to provide any separation, just like hers. 

Whoever it was must have moved in that day while she was at the office. She took in the dark wood and muted Earth tone furniture - nice, masculine and cozier-looking than hers, and then looked to the front door, where a large bulldog was leading the way through as it opened.

The dog’s owner followed closely behind, leash in one hand, two grocery bags in the other. Tall, with short red hair, he wore a bulky, battered green jacket and looked like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. Still, she could see the cut of his jaw from here.

He put the grocery bags on the counter as he passed by, then unclipped the dog’s leash, giving the brindled canine a rub on the head as it lumbered toward it’s water bowl on the far end of the room. Mako watched as the man pulled his jacket off and tossed it on the couch before turning his back to the window to unpack the groceries.

She rose from the couch, gently moving Raleigh to the cushion and ignoring the cat’s yowl of displeasure at being removed from her lap. 

Making her way closer to the window, she watched the man move about the kitchen. Turned out his jacket hadn’t been as bulky as she’d thought, the bulk was _him_. The worn-looking beige tee he wore with the sleeves pushed to the elbows did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms. 

Mako felt like a creep, pretending to tend to the orchid on the sideboard next to her so that her staring wouldn’t be obvious, but she was transfixed. The man moved like a fighter, every move with purpose, like he commanded the attention in the room without even intending to, even though he was the only one there.

The trip he took to the front door to turn the deadbolt and hook the chain told her that there was no Mrs. Across the Way, always a good sign.

_This is sad,_ a little voice in the back of her mind told her, and that voice was right. It had been, what, three months since she’d broken up with Adam, and here she was, spying on her new quasi-neighbor like some shut-in, mildly excited that he might be single.

Across the Way guy pulled a beer out of the fridge and settled on his couch, the bulldog hopping up to rest it’s head on his knee. Mako turned back around to her own living room, shaking her head at herself, and resolved to give Sasha a call next weekend for a girls night. Some bar hopping and maybe a one-night stand should set her straight.

* * * * * 

Bar hopping with Sasha and a couple of luke-warm nights with some hot-shot graphic designer did nothing to stop Mako from keeping an eye out for Across the Way guy. It also hadn’t stopped her from shortening ‘Across the Way guy’ to ‘Red’. It did fit, after all.

Not that she stood at the window and looked for him, but fuck if she hadn’t had to rewind the show she was watching more than once because the man felt the need to do push-ups shirtless in his living room.

Two could play that game though, and Mako had recently begun doing her morning yoga stretches in the living room, rather than her bedroom. The light was better there, that’s all.

Halfway through holding Warrior pose, movement across the way caught her attention. Keeping her head facing forward toward the wall, she looked as best she could with just her eyes.

Red was standing near the window, clearly in the middle of getting ready for work in black slacks and white dress shirt, tie looped over his collar, not tied yet, cup of coffee in one hand. Was he watching her?

She moved out of Warrior and into Pigeon, bringing one ankle to cross over the opposite thigh and holding her hands in front of her as though in prayer, crouching slightly. Red didn’t move from the window. 

He was absolutely watching her.

Mako grinned to herself but pretended not to notice as she came out of Pigeon. Red lifted his coffee cup to take a sip, still watching her.

Time to pull out the big guns.

She lifted one leg behind her and leaned forward slightly, then reached up and behind her shoulders to grasp her ankle and bring her leg up and her foot over her shoulder into Scorpion. Maybe arched her back more than necessary.

Across the way, Red missed his mouth with his coffee, sending the brown liquid spilling down the front of his dress shirt. He jumped back and Mako could practically hear him swearing from her living room as he headed away from the window to the back of his apartment to change.

Raleigh meowed at her from the couch as she laughed.

Not a bad way to start the day.

* * * * * 

Sunday morning kickboxing class with Sasha meant Sunday afternoon brunch with Sasha.

The two women got back to Mako’s apartment and dropped their bags in the foyer. While Mako made her way to the kitchen, Sasha knelt down to greet the two meowing felines who were loudly thrilled to see another friendly face. 

“Hello, pretty boys! Yes, Auntie Sasha is back to play with you two gorgeous things, have you missed me?”

Mako wondered, not for the first time, if Sasha intentionally made her Russian accent thicker when she talked to animals and small children, and began pulling ingredients from the fridge, “so I’m thinking baked eggs in portobello caps and those parmesan lemon zucchini things - good?”

“Throw in mimosas and you have deal,” Sasha said.

Mako added a bottle of prosecco and orange juice, the good kind with the mango in it, to the pile on the counter, “here, you make the drinks, I’ll cook.”

Sasha finished petting Raleigh and Yancy and joined Mako in the kitchen. She opened the glassware cabinet and, skipping right past Mako’s carefully selected set of champagne flutes, pulled out two pint glasses bearing obscene messages that Sasha had stolen for her during a pub crawl.

“We’re really going to drink mimosas out of those?” Mako asked as she programmed the oven to preheat and began slicing the zucchini. “Come on, Sash, that’s trashy.”

“You’re trashy,” the blonde shot back as she popped the cork, startling the cats. She winked at Mako and proceeded to fill each glass almost completely with the light gold liquid, tilting the glasses so it wouldn’t foam like the drinking genius that she was.

After adding just a big enough splash of juice for the things to be called a breakfast beverage, she held the one in the _Mustache Rides: 25¢_ glass out to Mako, keeping the _Fuck It, Let’s Drink_ for herself.

The two women clinked glasses in a toast before each taking a pull, Sasha’s deeper than Mako’s.

The oven beeped behind Mako, indicating the preheat was finished. Sasha wandered over to the window while Mako cracked the eggs into the portabello caps on the baking sheet. “Looks like someone moved into that place across from you. Anyone interesting?”

Mako shrugged, keeping her eyes on the food as she seasoned, “I guess, not really, I don’t know.”

“What, are they like, super fat or something?”

“Sasha!” Mako groaned before opening the oven door and sliding both trays of food in and setting the timer.

The food in the oven, Mako picked up her drink and crossed the open room to join the blonde in the living room, picking up the tv remote. “I haven’t really, like, noticed anything, or anybody, I don’t know, it’s no one don’t worry about it you want to pick a movie to watch?”

Sasha turned and cocked an eyebrow at her, “why are you babbling?”

“I am not babbling.”

Almost on cue, Red emerged from a back room of his apartment with a large black towel around his waist, clearly just out of the shower. Broad, muscled chest and defined abs fully on display. And still dripping wet, did he even _use_ that towel?

Sasha moved closer to the window and whistled. “Well that explains the babbling.”

“I was not babbling, now get away from the window before he sees you, come on.”

Sasha didn’t budge, just watched while Red filled the bulldog’s food bowl and straightened up the clutter in his living room, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had such dish move in across the way. I am hurt.”

“Drink more, that should fix it.”

“We print that on our money in Russia, you know.”

Mako rolled her eyes, but felt herself starting to get anxious. Not that she understood why. 

Sure, it would be embarrassing if Red spotted Sasha blatantly staring into his apartment, but no big deal right? It wasn’t like she knew him, or anything. 

Just, sometimes, she snuck a peak at him. For fun. It was innocent. Not like she had his daily schedule almost memorized, or knew what kind of beer he drank - an obscure Australian brand that she would deny to the death spending upwards of 20 minutes Googling around to find - or maybe walked around her own apartment in a towel that was entirely too short more than was necessary.

There was that fantasy she’d started having, though. 

The one that had become a pretty regular occurrence.

Red, in that worn, beige henley he always wore when he was home, showing up at her door, pushing her up against the wall in her entryway, kissing her breathless, running what were probably strong and callused hands up under her t-shirt as he lifted her up against the wall and ground his hips into hers, completely overwhelming her and driving her crazy and rubbing that two-day stubble he always seemed to sport against the sensitive skin of her throat--

Sasha needed to get the fuck away from the window.

“Sash, really, stop staring, he lives across the way from me, I can’t have him thinking I have such creepy friends. Knock it off. Now.”

Mako must not have kept her voice as normal and nonchalant as she’d tried to because the blonde turned her head away from the window and grinned wolfishly at her. “You should stand at window in bra and panties and hold up a sign with your apartment number on it. He comes over, you ride Ginger Express off into the sunset.”

“You are beyond crass. Remind me again why I’m friends with you?”

“Because I’m crass.”

Desperate to change the subject, Mako pulled on some oven mitts and spoke over her shoulder to Sasha, “stop creeping on my neighbor and come get some plates, I’m starved.”


	2. Chapter 2

The weeks of hard work and extra hours at the office were finally at an end. Jaeger Robotics’ acquisition of Coyote Industries was finished and newly minted as of last week.

Which meant that tonight was celebration time. 

Jaeger had rented out one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city for a “Black Tie Cocktail Gala”, which was really just an excuse for everyone get dressed up and stuff themselves with top-shelf liquor and hors d’oeuvres.

Mako finished up her make up, gave her sleek bob a final pass with her flat iron, and gave herself a once-over in the large mirror above her dresser in just her underwear. Her nice stuff, all black lace, a structured strapless bra with a short bustier piece under the bust with matching Brazilian-cut panties and garter belt holding up black stockings. 

Experience has taught her that nothing imbued confidence at an event such as this quite like a smoking set of lingerie and a pair of fuck-me pumps to go with ones dress.

She picked up her black silk robe to put on to go fetch her dress from the main room, where she’d steamed it earlier. The main room, where all the lights were on, and someone might be able to see in.

Like, perhaps, someone who lived across the way and didn’t seem to usually have plans on Saturday evenings.

Mako shot herself a cocky smirk in the mirror as she dropped her robe and slipped on her sky-high black pumps, all the better to ‘casually’ strut through her living room in.

She stopped to give Raleigh a scratch on his belly where he lay on the back of the couch and looked toward the windows. The lights were on across the way.

Mako wasn’t the only one going out tonight, apparently.

Red was in his living room, clad in black slacks and shoes, black dress shirt fully unbuttoned, hanging loose and open over his broad chest, dark silver tie looped over his neck, waiting to be tied.

Replacing the dog’s water bowl by the window and then adjusting the cuffs on his shirt.

Carefully not looking directly into his apartment, but watching from the corner of her eye, Mako walked out from behind the couch to where her dress hung on the tree-shaped drying rack. Strapless, hitting just below her knees and fitting like a glove, black material so glossy and smooth it looked liquid.

She carefully and completely unnecessarily examined the garment while absolutely not posing in her lingerie and heels while she did so. Really, this was just how she stood in these heels; with her back arched and ass pushed out.

Red hadn’t moved from the window.

Still focused on the dress, Mako slowly turned her body towards the window, drawing up straight and tall, her shoulders back. Popped one hip to the side.

Steady, confident, turned her head forward. Looked directly at Red, who had one hand still on a cuff of his shirt.

He started slightly as they made eye contact. Well, as close to eye contact that they could make across a city block. He didn’t move from facing the window, though.

After a long moment, her heart slamming into her ribs, she lifted her right hand. Curled her fingers down in quick succession in a wave.

When Red grinned back at her and lifted his own hand in greeting, Mako cocked her head, satisfied and mildly exhilarated, plucked the dress off of the drying tree, and strode across the living room back to her bedroom to finish getting dressed.

Sasha would be proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was short, but I'm mean and mildly tipsy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do greatly apologize for how long this has taken - I never honestly thought it would take me over a month to finish this. My muse decided to take a fucking vacation at a pretty terrible time. Oy, such is life. Thanks to all of you who've left me comments and have been reading along <3
> 
> Just how are these two crazy kids going to figure out how to meet??

The cocktail party for Jaeger's acquisition of Coyote Industries was exactly as Mako thought it would be: expensive, crowded, pretentious. She’d shaken so many hands she was starting to worry she would never get feeling back in the fingers of her right hand. Acquiring other companies was more trouble than it was worth.

She looked down at her watch - 11:38. She’d put in more than enough face time, now it was time to grab one more glass of sinfully expensive French champagne and then get the hell out of here. Maybe ask the driver for the company-provided car service to go through the Paunch Burger drive-thru.

“Miss Mori!” 

Sensei’s voice behind her made her groan inwardly. Her adoptive father would, no doubt, have ten more people for her to meet and dazzle.

“Somebody I want you to meet, Mako,” he said.

“I’ve met everyone in the building, Sensei, some of them twice,” she protested.

“This will just take a moment,” he said, gently turning her around with a hand on her shoulder.

She turned to meet the person Sensei had brought over, her serene, corporate smile on her face. Just one more, on more couldn’t be that bad--

“Mako, this is Hercules Hansen, an old friend from Mark One. Herc, this is Mako Mori, one of our brightest.”

Mako froze, her breath caught tightly in her chest.

Hercules Hansen was fantastically handsome; tall and broad-shouldered, sporting two-day stubble and clad in a sleek black suit with a black shirt, dark silver tie tied in a crisp Windsor knot. 

Red.

Red was standing in front of her, at Jaeger’s no-spared-expense blow out. By the just-barely hidden look of shock on his face, he recognized her, too.

“I thought you two should meet,” Sensei continued, oblivious to the moment of recognition passing between his old friend and adopted daughter, “Mako, Herc is my guest tonight. Mako is heading up the Mark Three missile development project and--”

He was cut off as Dr. Gottlieb, President of the Biological Development Department, approached them, nearly shouting about how Dr. Geizler was _making a farce of the entire program, he refuses to listen to me and you need to come set him straight--_

“I’m afraid I need to go handle this, excuse me,” he said, and then he was off, disappeared with Dr. Gottlieb into the crowd.

Now that they were up close, Mako could see what the distance of the street between them obscured; piercing blue eyes like a crystal clear lake she could easily lose herself in, a heavy smattering of freckles, unsurprising given the basis for her nickname for him, but a glance at the large hand wrapped around his glass of scotch revealed the same.

_They’re probably everywhere else, too,_ her completely unhelpful mind supplied.

Still, neither of them had spoken.

Red-- _Herc_ broke the silence first.

“So, Mako, was it?” 

At her nod, he gestured in the area around his jaw with his free hand, “I’ve just been calling you ‘Blue’, Mako.” Good god, an Australian accent on top of everything.

Mako flushed slightly - he’d given her a name, too - but answered without missing a beat, “and I’ve just been calling you ‘Red’, _Herc_.”

“Well, I suppose it suits,” he said.

“Yes, I suppose is does.”

They stood like that for another long moment, she wasn’t sure just how long. When had she ever been rendered practically speechless like this? 

Were there still other people here?

They were at a party once upon a time, but everything else seemed so far away now.

Herc broke the silence, “I don’t know about you, Miss Mori, but I don’t much feel like staying at this bloody party another minute.”

“Neither do I,” she said.

A beat passed between them and they both threw back the rest of their drinks at once. Herc plucked the empty flute from her hand and placed both empty glasses on the tray of a passing waiter.

“Shall we?” He asked, extending an arm toward the direction of the main entrance.

* * * * *

The car ride felt longer than it was.

 _At least there was no arguing over which address to give the driver_ , Mako thought.

Once the car pulled away, Herc gestured between the two buildings and grinned. “So, your place or mine?”

Mako rolled her eyes at the cliche, but thought for a moment. 

She usually preferred being on her own turf in these types of situations. However, Raleigh would be so excited to meet a new friend and would not be pleased to immediately be locked out of the room with Mako and their new pal. And she had no intention of listening to him yowl while she found out just how far south Herc’s freckles went.

“Yours.”

“Alright then,” he jerked his head toward his building and turned to cross the street, giving the street and quick up-and-down for traffic. Mako followed at his right, falling into stride alongside him and biting back a grin as she felt Herc’s hand rest at the small of her back, gently pulling her forward.

He led her through the opulent lobby to the elevator, keeping his right hand at her back, warmth radiating out from the point of contact. Once inside, Herc repeatedly jabbed two fingers against the button for the 42nd floor, almost impatient, like he could make the doors close faster by sheer force of will.

The doors started to close, but just before they did, a hand stuck in, causing them to spring back open as a man jumped in, obviously proud to have just caught the elevator.

Herc huffed out a breath through his nose in annoyance and Mako tried not to giggle at the clench in his jaw as the intruder reached across them to press the button for his own floor.

For eighteen floors, they both stared resolutely ahead, willing the elevator car to go faster. In the meantime, the hand on Mako’s back dropped down to where her own hand hung at her side. 

She fought down the giddiness that had been threatening to bubble up and out of her for the past half-hour as she felt his fingers lightly, but purposefully, brush against hers, warm and dry.

She splayed her own to be able to catch his just slightly, tracing her fingertips up along Herc’s and down again, a secret game that only they knew they were playing.

The elevator dinged as it reached the other man’s floor. Herc glared at the man’s back as he exited and the door slid slowly shut. Mako felt the elevator pull up just as Herc’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head, pulling her into a kiss. Firm and insistent, Mako couldn’t help but melt into it.

She returned the kiss immediately and feverishly, like she’d been longing for this moment without even having realized it, but now that it was here it threatened to consume her completely. The rest of the elevator ride was twenty-four floors of roaming hands and hot breaths panted out between deep, rough kisses, Mako pressed between the elevator wall and Herc’s firm chest and grinding hips.

Neither one of them registered when the elevator chimed for their floor, but the door pulling open caught Mako’s attention, and she quickly pushed Herc back and pointed out into the hallway, panting hard, her cheeks flushed.

Herc flashed her a grin, grabbed her hand and he pulled them both out of the elevator, down the hall to the door labeled 42 S. While he dug out his keys and unlocked the door, she ran her nails up his sides, under his jacket, anxious and excited.

The door unlocked, he turned back to her and held still. Laid one hand on her hip, reached the other up to press his thumb gently against her lower lip.

“You sure about this?”

Was she sure?

This close? Right across the way, where she’d been staring for weeks? Those hands just as rough as she thought they’d be against her cheek, while the promise of so much fucking more under that suit and right in front of her and through that door?

How could she not be sure?

Rather than verbalizing any answer, she parted her lips and sucked the pad of his thumb between them, biting it gently and giving it a firm suck before pulling back and surging forward to kiss him again.

He clearly didn’t need any more confirmation. Just pushed the door open behind him and pulled her in as he went, their kiss growing in hunger and heat as they stumbled into the apartment. He dropped his keys on the L-shaped kitchen counter as they passed, Mako did the same with her purse.

He didn’t stop kissing her as he ran both his hands up from her lower back to her shoulders, quickly finding the back zipper on her dress.

Mako broke the kiss and looked up at him, “don’t you like my dress?”

He grinned at her and lowered his head to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. “Your dress is lovely,” he said, his voice pitched low, “but I’ve seen what’s underneath it, haven’t I?”

She smiled with a self-satisfied hum. “I guess you have.”

With that, she turned around to face the table, arching her back and supporting herself on the spike heels of her pumps, balancing with her fingertips on the dark veneered spruce table. Cool air hit her back at the same time that Herc’s hot breath her her neck while he pulled down the zipper on her dress. 

Dropped it. Let it puddle around her feet.

Good thing she’d rented it for the night, otherwise she’d care.

Instead of caring, she turned in a slow circle, arching her back more than was at all necessary. Herc’s hands, huge and warm and rough, settled on her hips and he let out a low whistle. “Even better up close, _Miss Mori_.”

Her name had never sounded so fucking good.

He kissed her again and ran the thumbs of both hands down her thighs, trailing along the straps of the suspenders of the garter belt she wore and back up again.

Pushed her back, gently, until the backs of her thighs hit the table. Pressed himself against her and ground his hips into hers, swallowing down her moans as she hitched one leg up to his trim, nipped-in waist.

Arousal pulsed through her, throbbing between her thighs as he devoured her mouth, his hands running up and down her sides and back. He groped her breasts through her bra, squeezing them just hard enough to make her buck forward, moaning softly against his lips.

Her hands scrabbled at his tie and the buttons on his shirt, undoing them as fast as she could, desperate to get all that hot skin and firm muscle--

A loud whine came from next to her. Near the floor.

Mako looked down to see a fat, brindled bulldog looking up at them, it’s head cocked, with big, moony eyes, like there was something fun going on that he wanted to be part of. Mako grinned to herself, she knew that dog.

“Max, c’mon,” Herc groaned and pulled back to hook a hand through the dog’s collar. “Let me just, ah, get him into…”

He gestured toward the back of the apartment as Mako laughed and waved them away, “go ahead, I’ll be here,” she put a little extra into the wink she gave him, leaning back on the table with one palm braced behind her.

In the moment she had to herself, she quickly smoothed down her hair and pulled herself up to sit on the heavy wooden table, crossing her legs and arching her back like she was presenting herself, her tits thrust forward, toes pointed in her pumps.

After a moment, Herc came back from stashing the dog - Max - away, in the bathroom if the canine’s echoing howls were any indication. She watched as he strode back toward her, opening the remaining buttons on his shirt, stripping it off of his broad shoulders and tossing it to the side, the garment fluttering somewhere beyond the couch.

He’d also ditched his shoes and belt. Pants riding obscenely low on his hips, one hundred percent aware that she was watching him, walking over to her all rough swagger and firm, rounded muscle, he looked absolutely irresistible.

He stood in front of her and leaned in close, grasping her hips and giving her buttocks a firm squeeze. She gave him a sly grin and looped her arms around his neck, leaning in for another kiss.

The kiss was firm and slow. Soft and warm and deep, like they were both discovering the answer to a question that neither of them had given voice to. With a soft groan, Mako leaned in and uncrossed her legs to let him in closer, pushing their chests together and moaning at the press of hot skin against her own.

Unable to wait any longer, she slid her hands down his chest like it was something she wanted to savor before undoing the fastenings on his trousers and reaching into his boxer briefs, drawing his cock out by the base, firm and thick and more than halfway hard. She knew this was a good idea.

He huffed a ragged breath against her mouth and dropped his hand to his pocket. Pulled out a condom, the gold foil glinting the in the nighttime light filtering in through the windows.

“Is that just something you were carrying around with you?” She asked.

He wrapped his free hand around hers and pumped it up and down his cock.

“Nah,” the swollen flesh grew harder against her palm with every stroke, “didn’t think I’d get this lucky.”

She watched with rapt attention until that glistening bead of pre-come welled up at the slit, then pushed it around the rounded head of his cock with her thumb, biting her lower lip in anticipation when he groaned.

Suddenly he pulled her to the edge of the table, off, and around. She cried out slightly in surprise as he dropped her down on her feet and held her by her hips while she steadied herself on her heels and gripped his thick arms for balance.

Then walked her backwards.

Toward the windows.

“You know,” he said, undoing the hooks on her bra and tossing it onto the sofa as they passed, “there is this absolute pervert across the way who’s always spying on me.”

Mako hummed against his lips, “you don’t say?”

He got his hands around her breasts, then, giving them a firm squeeze that sent a jolt straight between her legs, “yeah, always walking around practically starkers, watching me work out.”

“Well, then maybe we should give them a show,” she said.

Her back hit the cool glass of the window. Fuck yes.

“Read my mind, pretty girl.” Well. That was a nickname she could get used to. He slid one hand to press against her cunt through the lace of her panties, where she was hot and wet, aching.

“Are _they_ even home?” She asked, teasing.

He chuckled and rubbed circles into her hip with his thumb, “I only see their cats right now.”

Mako craned her head back to look into her own apartment, where she’d left the lights on for the cats. Strange to see it from this angle. She really did have good taste in furniture.

“Well, maybe just the one,” he said, as Raleigh took a flying leap from the plush cat tree to the TV stand.

She laughed and turned back to Herc. “That’s Raleigh. The one who sleeps all the time is Yancy.”

“Yancy?” He chuckled, “like _Fancy Yancy?_ ”

Mako pursed her lips and tightened her grip on his cock, pressing hard against the slit with her thumb.

“Are you going to keep making fun of my cat’s names,” she said, letting go of his cock and pushing his undone pants the rest of the way down over his hard, muscled ass, “or are you going to fuck me up against this window?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, just a bit, and yanked her panties down. She shimmied out of them and kicked them away as he did the same with his trousers, then brought the gold foil packet to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth.

In an instant, he had the condom rolled on and Mako up against the window.

Pulled her leg up against his waist, lined up his cock, and pushed in. 

All of her sense was gone in an instant. He was thick and hard and she groaned, feeling full and hot and stretched. After a second, she regained her senses and bucked her hips back up against him. She hitched the leg he’d pulled up tighter against him, breathing hard and hot into the tight, shared space between them.

“Starting to appreciate all that bloody half-naked yoga you do every morning while I’m getting ready for work.”

Taking a deep breath, she linked her fingers together behind his neck and, one by one, brought her legs up over his shoulders. He held her up easily and they both groaned as the adjustment pulled her cunt tighter around him. She caught her breath first.

“Still annoyed about all that yoga?”

He answered with a low grunt and a hard rock of his hips. And another. Another and her head dropped back against the window, that delicious pressure slowly building in her guts.

As good as deep, full rocking was, she needed something more explosive for this night to end with. She ran one hand up his neck to bury into his hair but, finding it too short to grasp, settled for scraping her nails up his scalp, grinning at the groan it pulled out of him.

“Come on, Red,” she moaned, “thought you wanted to put on a show.”

He responded to the taunt by going still. Leaned his head back to look at her.

She couldn’t quite read his expression, but after a quick moment, he let her legs drop, her heels clacking loudly against the hardwood.

Before she could protest or ask him what in the hell he was doing, he spun her around, pushed her up against the cold glass.

“So how’s this,” his voice intoxicatingly low, “for putting on a fucking show?”

Before she could answer he lined up and brutally thrust into her to the hilt, her guttural cry echoing against the glass.

He let her adjust while he rearranged them quickly. Pressed himself against her back and gently kicked her feet apart so that he had her open, spread wide, her tits smashed up against the glass and her feet skittering for purchase on the sleek floor beneath them. 

Held her body in place with his own. Held her in place and fucked her. Fucked her hard and relentlessly, somehow still angling his hips to drive into that perfect spot inside of her, exquisite pleasure building more and more and _more_.

With her chest pinned against the window and his hips snapping up into her, hard and deep, all she could do was pant and whine while her fingertips gripped uselessly at the glass above her head. The pleasure crackling up her spine made her lightheaded, the full feeling in her gut rendered her almost unable to breathe.

Herc’s hand slid around her hip and as his middle finger found her clit, slippery and swollen and hard, she decided she didn’t need to breathe. Fuck breathing. She could breathe later.

“Look at you, baby. You know how many people can see you right now? How many people down there on the street and in their boring fucking apartments with their boring fucking lives are looking over here right now, wondering who that pretty slut is? The one getting fucked in the window,” he dug his fingertips into her hip and punctuated the rest of his words with hard, pounding thrusts, “like--a--good--fucking-- _slut_.”

She let out a loud, whining moan as she pressure inside her tightened further and further, her face scrunching against the glass. Her breath came harder and quicker and fast and high, white spots dancing behind her eyelids.

With a hard drag of his teeth across her shoulder, the coil within her released and her orgasm crashed over her like a wave. Her back arched and she cried out, short and breathy, as her cunt clenched and pulsed around Herc’s hard cock. He fucked her through it, his strokes long and slow as she came back to herself.

She caught her breath in loud, low moans, the jolts of the aftershocks flickering through her gut.

He smacked her ass, hard, and growled _good girl_ into her ear before picking the pace back up with quick and shallow thrusts. Both of his huge hands gripped hard onto her hips as his own climax hit him, pressing his face against her shoulder with a throaty shout.

They caught their breath, loud and harsh.

The glass against her front was cool, her back hot with Herc pressed against her, her cunt warm and sensitive. And every cell in her body completely and utterly exhilarated.

He kept an arm firmly around her waist as they both stumbled, legs weak and fucked-out, over to the large, deep sofa. Once they fallen backward onto it, she rearranged herself against his side while he reached an arm out to pull a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table, wrapping up the discarded condom.

They kissed lazily for a bit, the kind of smiling uncoordinated kisses best reserved for that post-coital haze. Sweat cooling on their skin, heart rates slowly returning to normal.

Herc broke the quiet first, toying with a blue tip of her hair. “So there’s a rumor that there was food at that shindig we just left.”

“Yes, I heard something about that,” she answered, rubbing her cheek against his firm chest, “I believe it was mentioned on the invitation.”

“I didn’t get a single bite of it, did you?”

Mako laughed and shook her head. “No, not at all. Looked good, though.”

Herc chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple, “well then we both need to eat something, don’t we?”

“You’ve got some of those bacon-wrapped scallops lying around?”

He laughed again and playfully pinched her ass, “none of that, sorry. I can probably whip us up some omelets, though. Some spinach, think I’ve got some goat cheese, mushrooms, shallots, do ‘em up right, hmm?” 

“You had me at ‘goat cheese’,” she said, stretching out against his side like a cat.

After a warm, lingering kiss, he sat both of them up, looking around for his own clothes while Mako pulled her heels off and watched him gather up his shirt and pants. Maybe she could convince him to make those omelets in the buff.

That hope was dashed when he pulled his suit trousers back on, although without any belt or underwear, they hung obscenely low on him, so she decided she could live with the view. He crossed back to the couch and held his shirt out to her. “Not as glamorous as what you came in with.”

She took it from him and hooked her other index finger through a belt loop. 

“It will be just fine, I’m sure,” she said, then hummed appreciatively against his lips as he bent down to kiss her again, quick, before he pulled back with a wink and made his way to the kitchen.

While Herc set about making the omelets, Mako pulled her phone from where her bag had ended up on the counter and texted Sasha.

_-Won’t be able to make kickboxing tomorrow - something came up-_

_\--Did you bring ‘something’ home from that work thing, or did you finally buy ticket for Ginger Express?--_

Mako tossed a glance at Herc before typing her response, not bothering to fight back the grin that spread across her face.

_-Choo choo-_

She tucked the phone back into her purse without even trying to decipher the emoji explosion that Sasha sent back and walked over to lean against Herc’s side. “Anything I can help with?”

Herc wound one arm around her waist and maneuvered her to stand in front of him.

“Tell you what,” he said, slowly rocking them from side to side, his hips pressed into hers, “you hold the pan, and I’ll stir. We’ll go from there.”

She smiled and turned her head to quickly kiss his shoulder, “aye, aye, Captain.”

“So,” he started, pushing at the mushrooms and shallots in the pan in front of them as they waited for the things to brown up just a bit more, “if memory serves me, you usually go to the gym on Sunday mornings with your blonde friend, yeah?”

Mako laughed, glad that he was plowing past the potential awkwardness of their knowledge of each other’s lives and routines. “Kickboxing class.”

“Ah, kickboxing.” His voice was low and Mako leaned back into the rumble against her back. Turned her head up to nuzzle at his jaw.

“I already cancelled.”

Herc ducked his head down to press a kiss to her lips, warm and wet and promising. “I’m sure we can get you some cardio to make up for it.”


End file.
